The Kårenfolk have grown restless, and the encroaching mob of valued customers can be heard gathering at the gates of our formidable shopping fortress. Too long have they been confined to their pitiable five bedroom castles with naught but access to every piece of entertainment ever made in the history of the realm. We had run out of mango White Mead upon their last visit, and they have not forgotten our failure. Shrill battle cries of ‘Tis my right not to adorn a mask, thou art discriminating against me’ pierce the tranquility of the soft, inoffensive organ music wafting through our shopping fortress. They will soon breach the automatic sliding doors, and shortly after the Purell stations will fall. Our shopping cart barriers will not hold long. Our valued customers are coming, and Ragnarok is nigh.
We will armor ourselves with what scraps of personal protective equipment we have left, though there will not be enough to supply our entire essential workforce. We are stretched thin, and have been besieged for many months. The lucky will be granted a thin mask, for the rest—there are only thoughts and prayers. In the momentary quiet before our gates are breached, we are granted strength by the inspiring commercial the Old Money Gods purchased to boost our morale in these unprecedented times. I hope they know that in our final moments we will gain strength by remembering that everyone at the Krøger Family of Brands says, ‘Thank You’.
As the unwashed hands of our valued customers crash into the battlements, we shall hold steady with the knowledge of the essential worker’s paradise that lies before us! On this day, they shall not speak to our managers! On this day, they will only speak to our indomitable spirit, and perhaps the shift supervisor when she returns from her lunch break!
As the last essential worker falls, our valued customers will stand over our broken bodies, sneering taunts of ‘thine customer is always right’ will be the last thing we hear as the light fades from our weary eyes. But smile, my dear essential worker, as the numbing warmth of death washes over you. For it is mandated by corporate policy, but also because your heroic sacrifice has earned your ascent into Corporate Valhalla!
bio Satire, travel, sports, reckless pursuit of the gilded sagas forever told in the ’employee of the month’ placards. Never met a flagon of mead I didn’t like. Twitter @matthusser